Babysitting
by Victoria-Eliza
Summary: Blair and Chuck find themselves stuck with a back-chatting, tantrum-throwing, demanding little angel during the holdiday season. Cute little three-parter. B/C. N/S. Mentions of all other cannon.
1. I

"Mother?" Blair croaks, leaning back into her pillows as she answers the ringing cellphone. Blearily, she flutters her eyes open and checks the clock on the dresser beside her. "It's barely even eight AM, and it's the holidays. What could you possibly want to talk to me about this early?"

"Good, you're awake." Eleanor greets brusquely, marching into the lobby and dragging a small girl with her, scowling as said girl stops to aim a kick at the brand new leather sofa that was beside her. "Madeleine, stop that this instant!" She shoots the frowning doorman an apologetic glance and tugs Madeleine closer to her.

Blair frowns, "Mom? Who're you talking to?"

"It's a long story," Eleanor sighs, pressing her fingers to her temples as Madeleine proceeds to push every button in the elevator in order to prolong their journey. "One I will explain in full when I reach the penthouse in a moment. Well," she corrects, glaring at the beaming child as the elevator comes to a halt on the first floor, "it may be a little longer than a moment. Just come downstairs."

Blair groans as she hears the dialtone that signals her mother has ended the call, and slips on her robe as she stumbles out of bed, gasping as she sees the appearance of her hair in the mirror. She struggles with her hairbrush for a few minutes, before abandoning the effort in favor of cleaning her teeth and removing all of her excess makeup that she had not bothered to remove last night. She takes two aspirin, and prays that her hangover won't last long.

Hearing the tell-tale chime of the elevator, she braces herself for what is likely to follow and makes her way downstairs, shivering at the unseemly cold that has somehow creeped in during the night. Pulling her robe tighter around herself, she blinks as she turns in the directing of the elevator and the pair that were awaiting her.

"Hi!"

A small pair of arms envelope her small waist and pull so that Blair's robe slips down her shoulders and she feels the cool air on her bare skin.

"You must be my cousin Blair!"

"Oh, no." Blair says, quickly grasping the situation for what it is as she gazes in horror at the child who is smiling up at her, even as she pinches Blair's arms and stamps on her slipper-clad foot. "No, no, no, no, no."

"I'm desperate." Eleanor pleads, looking wearier than Blair has ever seen her before. "Cyrus somehow managed to volunteer me to watch his niece while he and his sister visit their mother in Rhode Island, and I stupidly agreed. But now Laurel's just called with some emergency down at the atelier, and I still have all that paperwork to sign about opening a new branch in Paris... and please, darling, it's just for a few hours."

"No, way." Blair shakes her head adamantly, trying to pry the girl's claws off of her arms. "Mother, it's the holidays. I have things that I want to do, what am I supposed to do with a child all day. It's cold and it's snowing and I'm exhausted--"

"You look it." Eleanor interrupts, eying her hair with distaste.

Blair glowers, shoving the little girl away with more force than is strictly necessary, and nearly snarls at her mother. "_I'm. Busy._"

"Postpone." Eleanor tells her, quickly retreating toward the elevator, looking grateful as Madeleine once again throws her arms around Blair so that she is frozen in place.

"Mother!" Blair yells after her, struggling in vain to get free. "Mother, don't you dare!"

"I'll be back to pick her up later! Love you!"

Blair nearly screams as the elevator doors close and she is left alone with the child who is still grinning up at her.

--

"I'm Madeleine."

Once Blair finally succeeds in freeing herself of Madeleine, she practically sprints upstairs to the haven that is her room. She sits the girl down on her bed, and instructs her not to touch anything. Madeleine nods, one hand reaching out to undo the knot in Blair's robe and revealing Blair in her slip.

"I like your nightie."

Blair stifles a laugh, "It's a _slip_, sweetie. Not a nightie."

"What's the difference?"

Blair moves around her room in search of her toiletries. "Well, a nightie is what little girls wear to bed. It can be as plain as you like, because you've no one to impress. But, when you get older, you wear things like slips to bed because they're comfortable, while still being sexy. Understand?"

"Not really."

"Trust me, you will when you grow up. Speaking of which," Blair shoots the girl a piercing look, "how old are you? Seven, eight?"

"Nine." Madeleine tells her emphatically. "And a half. Almost."

Blair nods absently, scowling as she examines the dark circles under her eyes and her sallow complexion. "I never should have let Serena talk me into having that last shot last night. Gossip Girl is probably having a field day with photographs of our drunken debauchery."

"Who's Serena? What's Gossip Girl?" Madeleine asks rapidly, looking at the older girl in curiosity. "And what does _debauchery_ mean?"

Blair quickly calculates in her head exactly how much she knew about life when she was nine years old – discounting everything that she had learned from Chuck Bass that she most certainly should _not_ have known at that age – and comes to the realization that she has to be very careful what she says in front of Madeleine so as not to taint her innocent mind.

"Nothing," she eventually tells the eager child, "I was just rambling. Nothing you need concern yourself with.

Madeleine looks far from appeased, but decides not to press the subject for which Blair is entirely grateful.

"Good girl," she mutters.

"So," Madeleine begins, swinging her feet to and fro over the edge of the bed, "what are we going to do?"

"I," Blair informs her, walking over to her closet, "am going to take a shower, and you are going to sit quietly over there until I'm finished. Understood?" She inspects a navy blouse before quickly discarding it in favor of a red version of the same.

Madeleine's eyes widen at the sight of all of the clothing and she rushes to join the older girl in the hunt for a suitable outfit, fingering the array of silks and satins admiringly. "Can I pick your outfit out? _Please._"

Blair mulls it over, before relenting. "Fine. But, make sure you don't crease anything... and stay away from my party dresses."

–

Some twenty minutes later, Blair re-enters her bedroom dressed once again in her robe. Her mouth drops open as she sees what has happened to her room since she has left and she lets out a shriek of anguish. "Madeleine!"

She picks up her brand new Manolos from where they lay discarded on the floor, one heel broken, and she nearly has an aneurysm when she spies her favorite black dress thrown haphazardly over a chair, dozens more pairs of shoes heaped on top of it as well as a mountain of other – _extremely expensive_ – clothing.

Fuming, she follows the trail of destruction and chaos into her walk-in-wardrobe, ready to murder the nine-year-old who she knows is responsible for the massacre.

She's just opened her mouth to yell when the girl come into view, numerous articles of clothing in her hands, and looking so impossibly eager that the harsh words and the threats die on Blair's lips. Taking a deep breath, she musters all of the calm that she can and asks in a clipped voice; "_What_ have you _done_ to my _closet_!?"

Madeleine's smile falters, and she looks around seemingly for the first time. "Oops?"

Blair eyes her darkly, sighing as she takes the girl's innocence as the truth. "Show me the clothes," is all she says in the end, mentally praying that Dorota could fix the damage that Madeleine had unconsciously wreaked.

She carefully examines the articles of clothing that the girl hands her, trying not to hold a grudge as she has to step over a custom Valentino to reach her; a full, velvety green skirt that barely grazed her thighs, paired with a white scoop-necked cashmere jumper and green heels.

"Not bad," she says slowly, "but I need tights."

Moving like a flash, Madeleine races to Blair's armoire and rifles through the drawers until she finds a pair of sheer black tights, she hands them to Blair with a shy smile and Blair can't help but smile back as she accepts them. She moves to the same armoire and takes out some undergarments – taking care not to let the young girl see the _contents_ of the drawer, lest her mind be tainted forever – and walks back to the bathroom, calling over her shoulder;

"Accessories."

When she returns, she finds the girl gaping at the large collection of headbands that were housed in the back of Blair's wardrobe. Wordlessly, she hands Blair a simple black velvet band, eyes not moving from the display that she was so fixated upon.

"I don't wear those anymore," Blair informs her, returning the headband to it's rightful place.

Madeleine's eyes flit to Blair's in surprise, "Why?"

Blair shifts, uncomfortable under the girl's scrutiny. "I'm nineteen, and in college. Headbands don't suit my new lifestyle."

"So? Make them fit." She marches into the closet and grabs the accessory again, handing it to Blair with a determined look on her little face. "Wear it."

Rolling her eyes, Blair acquiesces the demand, taking it with her as she plugs in her hair-dryer and sets to work on taming her curls. Madeleine watches in awe as Blair expertly glides the brush through, teasing and fixing every lock of hair until it sits perfectly in place. When she is finished, she places the headband atop her head, pretending not to notice just how familiar the gesture is or how much she has missed them.

"Happy?"

Madeleine just hands her her make-up bag in reply, moving to find Blair's jewelery box as the older girl sets about applying the make-up. Carefully searching through the delicate items until she finds a suitable necklace. Once again Blair accepts her decision without complaint or criticism, slipping the pearls around her neck easily and threading the matching earrings through her lobes. She hears a gasp, and turns to find Madeleine staring in awe at a single necklace that took pride of place in the box.

Corner of her mouth quirking upwards, Blair informs her easily, "It's an Erickson Beamon. My boyfriend got it for me for my seventeenth birthday." She takes the necklace out of the box and holds it up to her throat, playing with the diamonds fondly. "Gorgeous, isn't it?"

The girl just nods, saying almost breathlessly, "I love your stuff."

"As do I." Blair replaces the necklace, closing the lid of the box gently as she gets to her feet and finds her jacket and purse, taking one last sour look at the room after Hurricane Madeleine had crashed through, before turning to the force behind said hurricane. "Since it's obvious that you have an interest in fashion, we're going shopping." She announces, giving the girl a warning look, "But only if you promise to be good."

"I promise!"

And with that Blair finds herself being dragged down the stairs and into the elevator, nearly falling several times in the process.

"Now I know why you picked out the heels," Blair grumbles, righting herself as the doors closed.

She receives a toothy grin in reply.

–

"You're really buying all that?"

Blair turns in surprise as she hands a credit card to the clerk. "Yes. Why? Did you see anything else that you liked?"

Their entire morning had been spent moving steadily from one end of 5th Avenue to the other, entering almost every store in between and buying at least one item for either girl at every. It had been fun, for the most part, and Madeleine had been positively angelic all the while – the sight of all the luxurious clothes and jewelery stunning her into rare submission.

Their final stop had been Bendels, and Blair had gone all out on both male _and_ female clothes in true Waldorf style; whatever she liked, she bought, no hesitation over price necessary.

Madeleine doesn't reply, instead viewing the male items with interest. "Who're they for? Uncle Cyrus?"

"No, they're for my boyfriend. Cyrus doesn't wear pastels." Blair accepts the bags that the clerk handed her, biting her lip as she struggles under the weight of her numerous purchases. They're just outside the shop front when Blair finally admits defeat, dropping the bags and handing Madeleine her cell-phone.

"Do you want me to call a taxi?" Madeleine volunteers, frowning slightly. "I thought that we were going to have lunch next?"

"We are," Blair assures her, picking up the bags again, "but not here. I already have a lunch date. Just press one and dial, I'll tell you what to say."

Madeleine does as told, eyes wide as an unfamiliar voice greets her at the other end.

"_Hello, beautiful."_

"H-- hi?" She ventures, looking at Blair nervously.

"_You're not Blair." _

Blair interrupts before she can reply to the statement. "Tell him we're outside Bendels, that he should send the limo."

She repeats the instructions, praying that the strange voice would pose no further questions. When he does, she merely holds the phone up to Blair's ear, standing on the tips of her toes to reach.

"Hello?" Blair says into the receiver, "Chuck? It's me. That was Madeleine, Cyrus' niece. My mom somehow roped me into babysitting." She listens for a few seconds, nodding. "Okay, I'll see you soon. Bye."

Madeleine moves the phone away from her ear, looking curiously at her quasi-cousin. "Was that your boyfriend?"

Blair nods, moving out of the way of a lady entering the store.

"He called you beautiful." Madeleine informs her matter-of-factly.

She laughs wryly, "He's called me a lot of things in his time, not all of them as nice. Come on, let's move down the street. If we have to wait we might as well do it while looking at Tiffany's window display."

It's the wrong thing to say. Before she knows it, Madeleine is racing down the street, nearly decapitating several holiday shoppers as she races through the crowds. Blair swears loudly and somehow finds a surge of strength, hurrying down the street, shopping bags in hand, calling the disobedient girl's name loudly and furiously.

–

"Where are we now?" Madeleine asks eagerly as the driver helps her out of the limousine and onto the pavement.

"It's called the Empire." Blair tells her shortly, still angry about her impromptu marathon down 5th Avenue. She thanks the driver as another young man comes out from the entrance of the hotel and takes their bags out of the boot of the car for them. The limo pulls away, and Blair looks at her watch, "We have a half an hour before Chuck gets here, we might as well bring these upstairs."

She takes Madeleine's hand in hers firmly, nodding to the concierge as they move into the building confidently as if they own , and the staff all rush to accommodate Blair's wishes, treating her as though she does. Together, Madeleine knowing better than to kick up a fuss like she did with Eleanor, they move towards the private elevator that led only to the penthouse. Blair waits until the man carrying their bags enters the elevator behind them before allowing Madeleine to press the button, which she does with a relish that can only come with being nine years old.

"Wow, this place is cool!"

Blair laughs as the girl immediately begins to run around, looking at all the gadgets and toys that came with being the home of two very rich young men. She herself is no longer awe-stricken by the chic decor or the modern touches having helped picked out most of them herself, but acknowledges that it is very impressive for someone who had not been there before. She sets her purse and her coat down on the sofa and tries not to think about what Madeleine could possibly be doing in Nate's bedroom once she hears a tell-tale crash.

The man obediently leaves their bags in Chuck's room for them, well-versed in Blair's shopping habits from prior excursions.

The second that he leaves, Madeleine is beside her, tugging on her arm and pleading with her to allow her to play dress up again. Reluctantly, Blair agrees and sits back and watches as she dresses first Blair, and then herself, in outfits that were more than suitable for a lunch date.

"Like it?" Madeleine gave a twirl, her brand new blue Gucci dress bringing out the shine in her light brown hair and setting off her aqua eyes, and the teeny-tiny heels on her white shoes gave her an extra inch of height that she positively _adored_.

"Yes," Blair assures her, picking out a few extra items to add to it, "it will be lovely once you put on some tights and that new white trench-coat that I got you. It's the middle of December – you'll freeze."

Madeleine pouts, and grumbles as she slips off her shoes and pulls the white tights on under her dress. "You sound like my mother."

"I've met your mother, Madeleine, and let me assure you that I sound _nothing_ like her." Blair snaps, placing a matching headband on top of the younger girl's head as per her request, before slipping a new headband atop her own head, once again _as per Madeleine's request._

She grabs her own white trench-coat and puts it on over her yellow dress, rolling her eyes in the mirror when she realizes that they match perfectly.

"Come on, I'm starving!"

Showing a little more of her true colors, Madeleine stomps her foot, folds her arms across her chest, and looks about ready to throw a tantrum. Wearily, Blair just allows herself to be dragged to the elevator – again – and to the likely Hell that would follow.

"You know," Blair says, a tinge of annoyance to her voice, "one minute you can be the cutest little thing... and then the next you're a little Hellion!"

Madeleine smirks and taunts merrily, "You know you love me."

--

**Disclaimer -- I do not own Gossip Girl or any of it's wonderful characters. **

**A/N -- **A little three-parter that I was struck with while watching E! News. I saw a picture of little Suri Cruise and was automatically inspired for Madeleine. Their looks are relatively the same, though I set Madeleine as being quite a bit older as I wanted the maturity and intellect of an older child. Chuck should come into play a lot more in the second part, as will the time of year at hand, and you will see much more tantrums -- Madeleine actually rather tame in this first part!

**Reviews are very much loved and appreciated**


	2. II

"Stop kicking the table," Blair hisses, holding her menu up to hide her face as she glowers at the young girl who was sitting across from her, sulking.

"But I'm hungry," Madeleine protests, looking at the delicious smelling food that the table beside them were devouring. "It's been forever, can't we eat yet?"

"No, we have to wait for Chuck." Blair snaps, feeling rather peckish herself as she had skipped breakfast that morning. "He should be here soon, just keep quiet and _stop kicking the table_."

She glances at her watch as she taps the table impatiently, scanning over her shoulder every few seconds in the hope that she would spot her boyfriend. She allows him a five minute grace period, before finally giving up in favor of her rumbling stomach.

"Fine, we can order."

Madeleine cheers, and Blair shushes her hastily as all the other patrons look over at them. The waiter quickly comes and takes their order, leaving just as Chuck strolls through the door.

"You're late," Blair informs him, moving her face so that his kiss lands on her cheek instead of on her lips like he intends. "We already ordered, you're having the steak-sandwich."

He frowns at her quizzically, "But you know that the chicken-club is my favorite."

"You're late," she repeats, eying him witheringly. "When you meet me on time, you can order whatever you like. Until then, you're having the steak." She takes her napkin in her hands, folding it into her lap neatly and precisely.

Chuck laughs, sitting down beside her and grabbing her hand before she can pull it away, planting a kiss on the palm. "My meeting ran late, I got here as soon as I could."

Still clutching her hand in his, he looks to the little girl who is sitting in front of them. "And you are?"

"Madeleine Yorke." Blair answers for her, "She's Cyrus' niece. Madeleine, this is Chuck Bass."

"Her boyfriend," he adds, wincing as her nails dig into the flesh of his hand.

She raises an eyebrow. "For now."

Madeleine nods, eyes meeting Chuck's steadily as she props her elbows up on the table and snatches a breadstick from the container in front of her, crunching loudly. Crumbs go flying everywhere, and Blair looks appalled at her lack of table manners while a slow smirk spreads across Chuck's cheeks.

"I'm sure you girls had a lot of fun today."

She makes a disparaging sound, rolls her eyes, and demands that Madeleine goes to the _powder room_ and washes her hands before she eats lunch. Once she has reluctantly slouched off, Blair turns to her boyfriend in dismay.

"One minute she's positively angelic, the next she acts like she's possessed!" She rants, "She single-handedly ruined my closet, dressed me in heels and then made me sprint – _sprint_, Chuck, not even run – down 5th Avenue shouting her name and acting like a crazy person!"

He chuckles, "I'm sure she's not that bad."

Blair's mouth drops open, "Did you not hear what I just said? The girl's bipolar! It's like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, only she's a nine-year-old girl instead of a--"

"--wretched old man?" Chuck ventures, stroking the back of her hand soothingly. "You're overreacting; I doubt she's the Devil Incarnate. You were quite a handful at that age too, if I recall correctly."

"Yes, but I had manners! Every tantrum thrown was in the privacy of my own home, not in the middle of the street with people everywhere." She reminds him, pulling her hand away and placing it firmly in her lap, scrunching up her napkin without regard for the wrinkling linen. "I swear, Chuck, that girl will cause me to have a meltdown by the end of the day."

He takes a sip of water, raising an eyebrow when still she continues on her rant.

"I mean, she's _fine_ when she's occupied. Give her a task to do – something she finds scintillating, something worthy of her time and attention – and you won't hear a peep from her, but leave her to sit quietly for so much as a second? Allow her to feel even the slightest hint of boredom? She's demonic!"

"Sounds a lot like someone else I know." He peers in the direction of the bathrooms, "Maybe you should go after her, she's been gone quite a while."

She sighs, getting to her feet and gliding towards the large, ornate doors that led to the lavish toilets and praying that whatever kept Madeleine could be easily and _discreetly_ dealt with. She pauses around the corner from the restrooms, listens as a member of Chuck's staff lectures a young child on proper etiquette and demanding to know who her guardians were.

"Excuse me," Blair interrupts, mouth set and eyes hard as she glares at the man, "what seems to be the problem here?"

Madeleine looks grateful, while the man pales and doesn't reply, asking instead- "This girl is... is with _you_?"

"Yes. She's family. To both Mr. Bass and I." She informs him, placing an emphasis on Chuck's name. "Now if you'll excuse us, we must get back to our lunch."

"O-of course," the man gave a little nod of his head, quickly retreating under Blair's malevolent smile.

As soon as he is out of sight, Madeleine turns to her and looks at her, wide-eyed and innocent. "I didn't do it."

Blair let out a disparaging laugh, shaking her head, "You know what? I don't think I want to know. Let's just get through lunch without anymore of your antics, and we'll forget whatever is was, ever happened. Deal?"

Madeleine ponders it over, "Do I get dessert?"

Blair eyes her incredulously, saying only, "At this point, you'll be lucky if I don't lock you in a cupboard for the rest of the day."

The girl merely blinks, skipping off ahead of her and chirping over her shoulder;

"I want the chocolate fudge."

–

Chuck stands up as they near the table, Madeleine still skipping ahead much to her older counterpart's annoyance. Their lunch had arrived in their absence, and Blair breaths a sigh of relief. All that shopping that morning had really taken it out of her, and she had never felt hungrier.

"Everything alright?" He asks, eying the two suspiciously.

Madeleine shakes her head, "The people here are mean. And very grumpy."

His eyes move to Blair's, who just shakes her head wearily and advises, "Don't ask – I didn't."

"What age are you?" Madeleine asks him a few minutes later, playing with another breadstick as she gives up on her panini in favor of awaiting dessert.

The corner of his mouth quirks upwards and he returns the question, smiling charmingly at her. "How old do you think I am?"

She thinks about it for a few seconds, "You wear suits like my Daddy does, but you don't have any gray hair so you must be a lot younger."

Chuck blinks, unsure as to whether it was an insult or a compliment.

"He's eighteen," Blair tells her, smirking at her boyfriend. "The youngest of all of us."

"And yet the most mature, _out of all of us_." he retorts easily, pushing away his plate.

"Perhaps," she concurs, "but I'm easily the smartest."

"And the most beautiful," he adds, squeezing her hand when she scoffs.

"Can I have dessert yet?" Madeleine asks impatiently, looking from one to the other. "I want the fudge."

Chuck smiles, waving the waiter over. "Three hot chocolate fudge sundaes, please." He hands the waiter his plate, ignoring Blair's mewl of protest as he orders her a dessert that she does not want.

"You love the fudge." Is all he says when she slaps his arm after the waiter leaves.

–

She _loves_ the fudge, and she all but licks her dish clean as Chuck watches on in amusement.

"What are we gonna do next?" Madeleine asks, already growing bored with the sights and sounds of the Empire hotel.

"I don't know, Madeleine," Blair replies, looking to Chuck innocently as she asks him the same question, "what _are_ we doing next, Charles?"

He looks at her blankly, "I have to work."

She allows a small smile to grace her features, even as she glares at him with all of the ire that she can muster, "It's December 22, why don't we go to Rockefeller Center?" She doesn't break eye contact with Chuck, "Have you ever been ice-skating, Madeleine."

The girl shakes her head, utterly fascinated with the couple who were staring each other down in front of her.

"I have to work." Chuck repeats.

Blair just smirks.

–

"You owe me for this," Chuck tells her, glaring down at his girlfriend as she loops her arm through his and they stroll through the park. "I mean it, Waldorf, Chuck Bass does not _do_ family days out to the ice-rink."

Blair laughs, resting her head on his shoulder. "Chuck Bass didn't _do_ girlfriends either. Things change."

"Evidently." He mutters sourly, though he pulls her tighter to him.

Madeleine scowls from behind them, not liking being ignored at all. She kicks at a stray pebble while swinging her brand new skates to and fro until the blade very nearly catches the hem of Blair's coat, and then promptly falls over, having slipped on the icy footpath in her "heels".

She allows a gasp escape her lips, encourages tears to well up in her eyes, and stays seated on the cold pavement awaiting the inevitable fuss and drama that was sure to begin once the couple realized that she had narrowly avoided being seriously injured on their watch. She waits for a few seconds, and lets out a quiet wail of pity when it becomes apparent that they had not noticed her plight.

Huffing slightly, she raises her voice. Still they do not hear her, as Chuck has just taken the opportunity to whisper something in Blair's ear that makes her throw back her head and laugh. Madeleine's eyes glint in fury, and she decides to let loose the big guns;

"BLAIR!"

Tears run streams down her face, and her cries grow louder and louder as she gets more and more worked up. Several people stop and offer their assistance, but she ignores them, yelling out for Blair and Chuck who have now progressed some distance ahead of her. Evidently out of earshot, they don't hear her cries, and so the young girl soon gives up.

Biting her bottom lip, Madeleine furiously wipes away her tears and gets to her feet. Face red from exertion and anger, she decides to teach the two of them a lesson. She glances around for a suitable hiding place, and decides to get "lost" for a few minutes. Stomping her way off of the footpath, she is just about to step foot onto the still-dewy grass when a hand clasps her shoulder.

Expecting to see either of her supposed babysitters, she lets out a loud shriek when instead she finds herself staring into the face of an old man. He looks at her worriedly;

"Are you lost, sweetheart? Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

Sensing an opportunity, she is just about to spin the kindly old man a tale of treachery and woe, publicly condemning the couple who were more interested in flirting than they were in watching her, when two brunettes close in on them. Blair reaches them first, and she immediately whacks the old man with her purse.

"Get your filthy hands off of her, pervert!"

The man's hand disappears, and Madeleine is immediately lifted into someone's warm arms. Thinking rapidly on how she can spin this for the better, she wraps her arms around Chuck's neck and allows more tears to wet her eyes.

"I was just walking," she sniffs, "when I fell. I had just stood up again and was about to catch you guys up when he came over and started talking to me. He asked me was I lost and he told me that he'd take care of me. I was scared, so I tried to get away but he wouldn't let me go..."

She buries her face into Chuck's coat, hiding her smile. Blair whacks the old man again, threatening to press charges while Chuck just stands and glares at him. Between Blair's harsh words and Chuck's death-glare, the old man all but has a heart attack, hobbling away before he could be accused of anything else.

When he goes, Madeleine peeks out to find two worried pairs of eyes fixated on her.

"Are you okay?" Blair asks, immediately taking a firm grip on her hand as Chuck lowers her to the ground, "Did that man hurt you in any way?"

She shakes her head, delighted to have all of their attention back on her again.

Chuck is the next to speak, though his glare is now directed on her, "What were you thinking?"

She blinks in surprise and is genuinely shocked when Blair immediately backs him up, demanding;

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk to strangers!?"

–

"Can't we go skating yet?"

Chuck sighs, pressing his fingers to his temples as they lean over the railing. It's the fifth time that Madeleine's repeated the same question, and her voice rises in volume each time. He is quickly losing his patience, and it is through gritted teeth that he replies;

"_I_ _told you_, you can go when Blair gets back."

Madeleine pouts, and he finds that he is no more immune to her doe-eyes as he is Blair's.

"Look," Chuck says, shifting uncomfortably, "I promise, Blair will take you out there the second she gets back and the two of you can skate to your hearts content – you just have to be patient."

"But I don't wanna be patient," Madeleine whines, tugging on his arm as she tries to drag him towards the entrance to the ice, looking longingly at all of the other adults and children skating and having fun. "Why can't you just take me and Blair can catch up?"

"I don't ice-skate." He tells her, laughing at the very idea. "That's Blair's whole thing; not mine."

"But you're her boyfriend," she protests, giving up and slumping beside him, "shouldn't you be interested in the same things? My mommy and daddy always do things together."

He grants her a rare smile, "Blair and I do things together all the time – just not ice-skating."

"How long have you been her boyfriend?"

"A few months, why?"

She tries to jump up on the railing so that she could see over better. "How many is a few?"

He rolls his eyes, lifting her up so that she is sitting on the metal bar, legs danging out over the ice. Knowing better than to let her go, he keeps an arm wrapped around her, still looking uncomfortable. "Seven."

"That's not very long. My mommy and daddy have been together for twenty-five years." She informs him, "They had a celebration for it in June. My older brother flew in from England 'specially for it."

Madeleine frowns as something occurs to her, "If you've only been her boyfriend for a few months, how come Blair said that you gave her that really special necklace when she was seventeen? That birthday was _ages_ ago."

He tries to find the words to explain it, coming up only with; "It's complicated."

"Most things usually are."

Chuck starts at the familiar voice, turning to find his brother grinning back at him along with Lily, Jenny, and Rufus Humphrey.

"Charles!" Lily exclaims, looking at him in surprise, "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"I wasn't expecting to be here," Chuck says wryly, "Blair is babysitting her cousin and I somehow got roped into helping."

Four pairs of eyebrows raise, but it is Jenny that says what they're all thinking.

"You and Blair? Babysitting?"

"Not by choice," he assures her. He lifts Madeleine down from the rail, where she was craning her neck trying to see who he was talking to. "Madeleine, this is Lily and Rufus Humphrey, Eric, and Jenny. Everyone, this is Madeleine Yorke. Cyrus' niece."

Madeleine waves, noticing how two out of the four are carrying skates identical to hers. "Are you guys going skating? Will you take me too? _Please_."

Chuck looks at her in bemusement, "I thought that you wanted to go with _Blair_. It was all you could talk about on the way over here."

"I do!" She says, "But I'm bored, and she's not back yet."

Rufus nods slowly, "I guess we could take her along." He crouched down to her level, "Have you ever been skating before?"

She shakes her head, looking eagerly at the rink. "Blair promised to teach me."

"Alright then, I'll go and rent myself some." He winks at Madeleine, "I haven't been skating in years, we can help each other learn. Be right back."

"You're not skating, Lily?" Chuck asks, noticing the absence of blades.

She laughs, "No, Charles, I decided to sit this one out."

"Charles?" Madeleine wrinkles her nose, looking puzzled. "I thought that your name was Chuck?"

"It is," he assures her. "It's a version of Charles."

"Like a nickname?"

He nods, and she mulls it over.

"Oh. I prefer Chuck, though."

He smirks, "As do I."

The group falls into an easy silence, Lily and Jenny looking shocked by Chuck's easy camaraderie with the young girl while Eric smiles knowingly. Once again, the silence is broken by Madeleine, who is now studying Jenny with great interest.

"Why are you dressed all in black?"

Jenny blinks, "Excuse me?"

"You're wearing all black. Why?"

"Um... fashion, I guess." Jenny looks perplexed by Madeleine interest, and Eric snickers as the child slowly shakes her head, saying only.

"But Blair never wears all black. I helped her to shop today."

"Well, Blair and I have different styles." Jenny points out, furrowing her brow. "Blair likes more classical pieces, and I like my clothes to be edgier."

"Oh." Madeleine repeats, appearing to think it over much the same way that she had Chuck's name. "I think I like Blair's better. No offense, but your eyes kind of look like my toy panda's."

Chuck bit his lip to stop from laughing, and Eric was looking at Madeleine in awe.

"I really like that kid."

–

They have just taken to the ice when Blair returns, cell-phone in hand, looking furious and wind-swept. She says a quick and distracted hello to Lily, before turning to Chuck.

"My mother apparently has another emergency," she spits. "We have to mind Madeleine until Cyrus gets back later tonight. And not only that, but Daddy and Roman are flying in tonight too, instead of Christmas Eve as planned. Dorota's in Poland with Vanya till next week, so it's up to me to organize everything as usual."

She glances out over the rink, pausing as she recognizes a few familiar faces. "Is that Madeleine over there with Rufus Humphrey?"

At that very moment, a frustrated Madeleine decides to trip Rufus up by placing her skate under his foot. He goes down. Hard.

Chuck bursts out laughing, Blair looks like a feeling of deja-vu has overcome her, and Lily winces.

"I really hope that was an accident."

Chuck just smirks, repeating Eric's earlier words, "I really, _really_ like that kid."

--

**R&R**


	3. III

"Thanks for the bear," Madeleine beams, clutching her brand new toy close to her chest and squeezing tightly. "I love it!"

"You deserve it," is all Chuck says in return, still replaying Rufus' tragic _accident_ in his head and smirking every few seconds.

Blair tuts, warns her boyfriend not to encourage the child, and pretends not to be equally as delighted about the new turn of events as her boyfriend is. Though she has to admit, the sight of the Humphrey patriarch on crutches is oddly satisfying.

"Mommy won't be happy though," Madeleine continues with a frown, reclining back into the leather seats of the limousine. "she keeps yelling at Daddy whenever he buys me anything new. She thinks that I'm too spoilt."

"Really?" Blair asks dryly, patting down the girl's very mussed hair, "We'd never have guessed."

–

An hour later, and Chuck is seriously contemplating ducking for cover.

They had arrived back at his penthouse, and Blair had (typically) concocted a master plan to keep Madeleine occupied for just under two hours; Breakfast at Tiffany's.

"She'll enjoy it," Blair had said confidently, placing the DVD in the recorder as Madeleine settles down on the couch beside a reluctant Chuck. "All little girls love movies like these. She'll adore Audrey – how could she not?"

As it turns out, she loathes it. With a passion.

"It's boring," she had moaned, ten minutes into the film. "That woman is weird, and why is she smoking that cigarette through a long stick? Can't she just smoke it normally like Daddy does?"

Blair had shushed her, fully expecting that she would grow to love it after she had seen more of the story.

Now they were a little less than half-way through, and he can honestly say that he fears for Madeleine's safety.

"What did you just say?" Blair asks, eerily quiet as she mutes the television.

Madeleine doesn't notice the change in her cousin's demeanor, repeating easily, "I said that Holly's stupid for going out with all of those men. And who names their cat, Cat? This movie doesn't make any sense. I don't like it."

–

He sends Blair to his room to cool down before she wrings the poor girl's neck and she agrees, eyes glinting as she remembers exactly _what_ time of year it is and just _where_ he might have hidden her present. He knows only too well what thoughts are going through her head, and it's with a chuckle that he allows her to turn his room upside-down.

(She'll never find it)

He sits down on his sofa with a glass of scotch when she leaves, switching off the DVD with a wry shake of his head and turning it instead the the Business News. Madeleine settles herself beside him again, quietly playing with her new bear. He glances down at her from time to time, shifting uneasily as he realizes that it isn't _entirely_ such a nuisance to have to spend time with her as he would have originally thought.

Especially since she seems to be quite taken with him – not even complaining when he doesn't give her his full attention, choosing instead to keep one eye on her as she dances the bear up and down on her lap and his other eye on the television and the stock-markets.

They're so easy in this routine that they notice when a giggling pair of blonds enter the room, stealing kisses and whispering in each other's ears. Neither do they notice when the two blonds freeze, and Nate clears his throat.

"Chuck, man, do you have something you want to tell us?"

Chuck starts, nearly dropping his scotch and cursing as the amber liquid spills out over the rim of his glass and onto his pants. Madeleine, for her part, barely flinches. She chastises a fuming Chuck on his choice of language, and carries on playing with her bear.

"Chuck?" Serena ventures, looking between her brother and the child in bemusement. "Tell me that-"

"She's _nine_, Serena," Chuck snaps, slamming the glass down on the coffee table and standing up, "Even _I'm_ not old enough."

Nate and Serena both look at each other with more than a little relief.

"So who is she then?" Nate asks, eying the girl curiously.

"I'm Madeleine," Madeleine replies rather forcefully, not liking how they were talking around her. "Blair's cousin." She stands up on the sofa, leaning her elbow's over the edge as she meets Nate and Serena's eyes. She jerks a thumb in Chuck's vicinity, "They're babysitting 'cause Eleanor doesn't like me much."

Chuck makes a noise, "Eleanor likes you, she's just not very maternal. And get down from there," he eyes her heels worriedly, not liking how they dug into the fabric of his couch.

Madeleine grins, "I think I scare her." She tells Nate and Serena matter-of-factly.

"She's easily scared," Chuck replies, lifting her off of his expensive furniture and planting her feet firmly on the ground. He waves his hand towards the two who were still staring in awe. "This is Nate, he lives here too, and his girlfriend, Serena."

Serena glowers at the less-than-warm introduction, "Also known as his best friend and his sister."

"Sister?" Madeleine frowns, "You don't look very much alike. Are you his sister like Eric's his brother?"

Serena blinks, "You've met Eric?"

Madeleine nods eagerly, "And Jenny, and Lily, and Rufus. We went ice-skating."

"And then Lily, Rufus, Jenny and Eric went to the emergency room," Chuck adds, rolling his eyes as he retreats to his room to get changed.

Nate raises his eyebrows at his best friend's retreating back, "Emergency Room?"

"It was an accident," Madeleine promises, hugging her bear tightly.

–

"I still think that we should have left a note," Nate tells his girlfriend, glancing worriedly at his cell-phone and all of the missed messages and voicemails that awaited him. He rolls his eyes at Serena's attempted interaction with Madeleine, and says plainly, "Serena, seriously. We should call them back."

Serena waves away his concern, "They'll know she's with us. Besides, we're doing them a favor by taking her for a few hours." She beams at the little girl, taking her hand as they cross the street. "I love your name." She gushes, "Does anyone ever call you Maddy?"

Madeleine doesn't look at her, "No."

"Oh." Serena's face falls, but she tries again. "You said that you went ice-skating earlier, do you like to skate?"

"Yes."

There was a stagnant pause, and Nate had to bite his lip to keep from laughing as Madeleine blinks up at Serena stoically. Serena spots a window display, and nearly shrieks with excitement, turning to her boyfriend eagerly.

"I know! We can take her to go and see Santa. Won't that be fun?" Her glare warns Nate to be enthusiastic, and so he plasters a smile on his face.

"Great!"

Madeleine just snorts, dragging her heels stubbornly on the ground as Serena pulls her into a large department store and into the queue to see Santa Claus. They get in line, and she clearly shows her derision for the idea. Serena ignores her protests.

"This is stupid." Madelien informs them, sulking as the line moves up a bit. "I'm nine – I know that Santa's not real."

Serena, to her credit, doesn't falter. "What? Of course he is!" She waves in the direction of the man who was sitting in a chair a few meters away. "See, he's right there."

Madeleine peers over to where she's pointing to, stating plainly, "That's an old man in a costume."

Serena elbows Nate, who disagrees vehemently, "No, that's definitely Santa Claus. See – he has a long white beard, and a red suit, and a--"

"Brown mustache?" Madeleine guesses, rolling her eyes and folding her arms across her chest.

Nate sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugs at Serena. "Okay, kid. You win. Serena, she knows that Santa's not real, you can't make her _un_-know it. Lets just get out of here."

The three of them turn when they hear a gasp from behind them. A little boy no older than six stands, tears filling up his eyes as he looks at Nate, "What do you mean Santa's not real?" His lower lip quivers, and Nate curses as the boy's mother glares at him and attempts to console her son. The father clenches his fists.

"Nice going, jackass, you just ruined Christmas!"

–

"I can't believe that you got us banned from that place, Nate Archibald!" Serena hisses, hiding her face as the three of them are frog-marched from the premises and out into the crisp afternoon air.

Nate flushes, "It's not like you ever went there in the first place."

"Well, I'd like to have the option!" Serena retorts, taking out her cellphone and ignoring all the messages from Blair and Chuck, moving instead to view Gossip Girl's blog. As she expected, their little incident was well-documented, with photographic evidence.

Madeleine peers over her arm and reads the writing on the screen with interest. Noticing how distracted Serena and Nate were, she quickly takes the phone out of Serena's grasp on the pretense of "playing a game", and scrolls down the previous posts. Frowning at a few words that she doesn't understand, she focuses mainly on the pictures and, as such, easily grasps the gist of what she is reading.

Nodding as she recognizes most of the people (Blair and Chuck appear several times on the first page alone), a slow smile spreads on her face as she finds a folder dedicated to "Serena van der Woodson" and she begins to read the gossip and scandals that surrounded the annoyingly exuberant blonde who is still busy bickering with her boyfriend in the middle of the street. She has just approached August, when Serena realizes just what she is doing.

"Madeleine!" Serena snatches the phone out of her hands, looking anxiously to see exactly what post she was reading, and moaning when she sees herself in a bright orange dress, astride a horse at the polo match. She scrolls up the page, biting her lip as she sees pictures of her and Carter embracing and of her and Patrick and finally of her and Nate(thankfully her tryst with Tripp had remained a secret). "Did you read all of these?"

Madeleine just giggles, resuming her previous game with her bear. "Maybe."

Serena takes the bear out of her hands, looking at her sternly. "Why did you do that? You told me you were going to play a game. Those things that you were looking at were private."

Narrowing her eyes at the reprimanding tone, Madeleine decides that she doesn't particularly like this girl. Gritting her teeth and preparing herself, she begins to scream. Loudly.

"I. Want. My. _Bear_!"

Serena gapes at her, while Nate, startled into action, tries to reach for her. Madeleine dances out of arm's reach, screeching loudly.

"Get away from me!"

Much like her earlier tantrum, plenty of people stop and stare. A few approach, but a sheepish Nate waves them away. Serena looks like she's about to die of embarrassment, while Nate just looks concerned.

"Whoa, kid. What's wrong?" He glances at his girlfriend, "Serena, I think that she wants the bear."

Serena hands it to her dumbly, eyes widening as Madeleine's tears immediately begin to subside and she begins to hiccup. "Bear." Madeleine whispers softly, clutching the soft-toy close to her chest again as her lower lip juts out. She murmurs into the soft, velvety fur as Serena and Nate both stare on in bewilderment.

Just as Nate opens his mouth to speak, a black limousine pulls up and two fuming brunettes step out. Blair takes one look at the scene; Nate and Serena's bemusement and Madeleine's red face, and she sighs.

"What happened?"

She doesn't wait for an answer, easily shooing the still-miserable girl into the awaiting limo before stepping in herself. Chuck follows, as do a very reluctant Nate and Serena.

"I don't know what happened, man." Nate tells Chuck in a quiet aside, "One minute Serena and I were fighting, the next thing I know Serena's giving out about some phone thing and the kid's screaming her head off."

On the other side of the limo, Blair is interrogating her best friend.

"I swear, B. I didn't even yell."

"But you took the bear?"

Serena lets out a huff of frustration, "Only so that she'd pay attention to me! I was nothing but nice – we even took her to see Santa Claus!"

"We saw," Chuck informs her dryly, "Gossip Girl had a field day. That's how we knew where you were."

Madeleine pipes up smugly, "Serena's on Gossip Girl a lot. There's a load of pictures."

The four teenagers freeze.

"Sweetie," Blair asks finally, a hint of steel to her voice, "how do you know what Gossip Girl is?"

Madeleine blinks up at her innocently, "I saw it on Serena's phone. She got mad though, when she realized. Probably because she was kissing a lot of boys in all of them."

Nate scowls at the reminder, and Serena flushes.

Chuck is looking at his sister with great amusement, "You let her read Gossip Girl? Sounds like you were asking for trouble."

Blair moans, thinking of the possible consequences. "She's going to be scarred for life by the end of the day. She may never recover." A pause, "My mother is going to _kill_ me."

–

"See," Nate says easily, carefully hanging an expensive Tiffany ornament on the tree, "This is what we should have been doing all along."

The three girls nod in agreement, while Chuck glowers.

"I'm going to be stepping on pine-needles for weeks." He complains, looking venomously at the tree that he _most certainly did not want_. "This is against hotel regulations, you know."

"We know." Blair and Serena both chorus, the former with a roll of her eyes, the latter with a lazy chuckle.

"You've mentioned it several times," Madeleine chirps, adding a crystal star to the tree.

Blair laughs as swats her boyfriend's arm playfully, "See, Bass, you're getting repetitive it your old age."

He turns his glare on her, ignoring the way her brown eyes shine with delight as she decorates the tree that they had purchased and had (somehow) managed to fit into the limo on their way home. One very expensive trip to Tiffany's later, and Blair Waldorf was in ecstasy. Especially since she had managed to wrangle a necklace into their basket as Chuck was busy taking his credit card out of his wallet.

Now, she fingers the pendant around her neck and smiles up at him beseechingly, willing him to get on board with the Christmas extravaganza.

"Fine," he concedes eventually, "but if I hear _one_ Christmas carol playing anywhere in this hotel, I'll bar you all. Understood?"

"Grinch," Serena mutters, waving a piece of fake mistletoe above Nate's head as she leans in for a kiss. Blair places the last ornament on the tree and stands back, viewing her work critically.

"Serena's side will have to be entirely redone, of course." Everyone save for Blair and Madeleine roll their eyes, "But for now – it'll do."

Moving fluidly, she turns the tree until the side that she herself had decorated was facing outwards for all to see, smiling in satisfaction at the end result.

"Perfect."

She picks up the porcelain angel (pale with brown ringlets – of course) and is about to place it on top of the tree when a loud cough is heard from behind her. Scowling, she reluctantly hands the angel to the awaiting child, folding her arms across her chest when Nate hoists Madeleine up she that she can reach the top of the tree.

"That's my job," Blair says sulkily, leaning her head against Chuck's chest as he plants a kiss on her forehead.

"Thank God you were an only child, Waldorf."

**R&R**

**--**

**Epilogue to come**


	4. Epilogue

"Blair." Eleanor titters nervously, attempting to hide her glass of wine behind her back. "I wasn't expecting you for another hour."

Blair narrows her eyes at her mother, "Apparently not. Did you get your problems at the atelier sorted out?"

Eleanor nods, looking apprehensive. "Where's Madeleine?"

"She and Chuck are downstairs, helping the doorman to carry our stuff up. We went shopping." Blair informs her mildly, walking closer to her mother. "Well, don't you look lovely! Is that a new dress?"

"N- No. This old thing? Cyrus bought it for me when we were in Milan a few weeks ago."

"Oh?" Blair replies, spying a piece of white card and reaching behind the neck of her mother's dress to pull out a price-tag. "That's funny. I would've thought that you'd have removed the tag."

Eleanor looks down at her guiltily, "I must have forgotten. You know what I'm like, I'd forget my head if it wasn't strapped down to my body."

"I do know what you're like." Blair tells her coolly, glancing over her shoulder as she hears the chime of the elevator. Chuck and Madeleine step out, each laden with bags and packages.

"Thanks for all your help, Blair." Her boyfriend says sarcastically, dropping the bags at her feet and smoothing down his suit.

"No problem," she chirps back, still eying her mother thoughtfully. "I was just explaining to Mom that Daddy called. His plane landed early and he and Roman are on their way here now. We wanted to be here to greet them. Imagine my surprise when I found my mother already here."

"Yes, my meeting wrapped up early." Eleanor explains, eyes widening as Madeleine picks up something from the coffee table. "No – leave that alone, Madeleine."

Madeleine ignores her, handing the slip of paper to Chuck with a grin. He read it slowly, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Bliss Spa. It's a receipt for Eleanor Waldorf."

Blair grabs it out of his hands, "Facial, deep tissue massage, a manicure and a pedicure. Sounds like someone had a busy day."

"Yes, well. I can explain--" Eleanor splutters, wringing her hands nervously.

Blair cuts across her, "Meanwhile, we've been having so much fun. Haven't we Madeleine? What did we do again? Oh, yes. I remember now. The little brat _ruined_ my closet; ran away from me on several occasions; did Lord-knows-_what_ to the bathrooms at the Empire; had a hissy-fit when we went ice-skating; sent Rufus Humphrey to the ER; _tortured_ Nate and Serena by having a tantrum in the middle of the street--"

Madeleine looks somewhat abashed, while Eleanor looks horrified.

"Mother – how could you?" Blair asks finally, halting in her rant. "You just dropped her on me without notice, all so that you could go to the _spa_. Granted, it didn't turn out to be _entirely_ awful..."

"Her way of saying that she had fun," Chuck tells Madeleine quietly, smirking.

"...it still does not make up for the fact that you lied to me! Your own daughter."

Eleanor breaths out a huff, "Fine. I lied. And I am _sorry_, Blair. Thank you – you too Charles – for taking care of Madeleine for me. I'm sorry that she was such a hassle."

"I wouldn't say hassle, exactly." Chuck tells her, rolling his eyes at the girl who was returning his smirk. "Though I'm sure that she gave Serena nightmares. She's probably the only person in the world that doesn't find my dear sister _charming_."

"She and Nate took me to see a fake Santa Claus," Madeleine informs her aghast aunt. "And then she got mad when I was looking at stuff on her phone. She kisses lots of guys, doesn't she?" She asks solemnly. "There were _a_ _lot_ of different photos."

Blair stifles a laugh, "Yes, she kisses lots of guys."

–

"Mommy!"

Madeleine ran to her mother and was immediately scooped up into her warm arms. "Hello, sweetheart. Did you have fun with Eleanor today?"

"Nope!" Madeleine replies, bouncing up and down as her mother eyes her new outfit with interest. "But I did have fun with Blair and Chuck! Blair and I went shoping and I got a bunch f new clothes, and Chuck got me this bear 'cause I accidentally tripped his," she pauses to think, "dead father's wife's _fifth_ husband. That's right isn't it?"

Chuck nods, biting his lip to keep from laughing at Savannah Yorke's face.

"And I met Chuck's brother, Eric, and his sister, Serena. I didn't like Serena much though, she was too... you know cousin Tia? Too much like her." She turns to the other occupants of the room, saying conspiratorially, "I _hate_ cousin Tia. Nate was okay though – he helped us to decorate the Christmas tree that we bought on the way back to the hotel."

"Christmas tree? Hotel?" Savannah seems flabbergasted, not knowing which topic to broach first.

Madeleine nods, "Uh huh. It was so much fun – we had to sneak it past security, even though it was Chuck's hotel. He refused to help us, so Serena had to distract the guard while Nate carried it into the elevator and to the penthouse. Blair was supposed to be helping Serena, but she refused to pimp herself out. Serena didn't look too happy when Blair said that though, and Nate wouldn't tell me what it meant. What _does_ it mean, Mommy?"

She looks adorable and innocent, and every adult in the room throws the two teens dirty looks as Madeleine continues on with her story, casting Blair and Chuck in an even worse light.

"She's doing that on purpose," Blair hisses to her boyfriend, looking both angry and admiring at the same time. "I did not say half of those words. And even if I did – she's nine and her mother insists on sending her to _public school_; she knows perfectly well what they mean. Where does she get off playing the innocent little angel?"

Chuck rolls his eyes, "This from the girl who at nineteen, still has her father convinced that she's a perfect princess who never does a single thing wrong. Admit it, you're proud of her."

"No, I am not!"

He looks unconvinced and they begin to bicker quietly

At that very moment, the elevator doors open yet again and Harold and Roman step out.

"Hello, everyone!" greets Harold.

"Merry Christmas!" adds Roman.

Looking surprised at the sudden silence that had fallen upon the room, Harold focuses in on the little girl who was standing in the very center of the room, still clutching the bear in her hands.

"Hi," Harold smiles, crouching down to the child's level. "I'm Blair's father, Harold. What's your name?"

Madeleine smirks, a too-familiar smirk that makes Blair's eyes widen and Chuck snicker.

"_I'm Madeline Yorke_."

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl or any of the characters mentioned in the story.**

**A/N: Hm, not sure that I like the ending all that much. The epilogue most certainly did _not _turn out how I wanted it to, and I apologize for that. But I figured that I might as well post it anyway -- I've done enough tweaking. It's pretty short, but I just wanted something small anyway so that's alright in my mind.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed this story -- I really adore reading all of your comments, and they're really appreciated. I'd also like to especially thank all of the anymous reviewers that have reviewed and taken an interest in the story as I can't reply back through PM. Thank you everyone!**

**HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!**


End file.
